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May 12, 2003
Witness
Never had to dial 9-1-1 before. The whole experience was surreal; almost as if I was watching myself while it happened, trying to see if I would do everything I was supposed to.
Wait…Let me start over. Today, right before lunch, I had to drop off a DV deck I had borrowed in south Fargo. Glad to have all the footage finally captured for a project I’m working on, I started heading home for lunch. Just missing the light at 32nd Ave. S. and University Drive, I sat there in the left-turn lane waiting for it to change. Fiddling with the CD-Player, I heard the screech of brakes on pavement, and looked up just quick enough to see a Toyota mini-van smack an older SUV in the middle of the intersection.
It was only a moment, but seemed to play in slow-motion. It was like a bad Physics problem, played out in real life: two masses, one 2,500 lbs. heading west at 20 mph, one 2,000 lbs. heading south at 35 mph, collide…what is their new velocity and direction? Which city do you end up in when you dial 9-1-1 on your Spring PCS phone? What is the reaction of the driver of the mini-van when he rushes out of his Toyota to help the flipped over SUV passengers? All of these questions weighed on my mind during that moment. The answers of course are… the Toyota stops as it transfers its momentum to the SUV, the SUV heads southwest (a combination of its and the Toyota’s momentum) long enough for its tires to catch and flip it like a flapjack; I end up at West Fargo dispatch, who must be closest to the tower my cell phone is on…they transfer me to Fargo-Moorhead dispatch (it rings many, many times, West Fargo picks up again just as F-M picks up). The reaction of the driver? Not good. I could only see the bottom side of the SUV at this point, but judging from the Toyota fella’s reaction I don’t think anybody in the SUV was ready to swap insurance info.
By this point, I was explaining to F-M dispatch that they should probably send Fire/Ambulance there ASAP, and was watching as people rushed from their cars to help as the scrawny, moustached Toyota man crumbled to the ground after peering into the upturned pile in a combination of panic, terror and sorrow, his hands covering his mouth, and tears wetting the pavement. Not a good sign.
From there, things were sort of a blur. My light, long since changed (a few times), now wasn’t relevant (as I couldn’t turn through the intersection, only go straight). I started to hear the sirens. On my next green, I crossed the interesection so as not to continue blocking traffic (although, everybody behind me already thought of that, and were oddly absent when I peaked in the mirror). I pulled onto the frontage road past the intersection in order to get back to my original route, to catch a glance at the scene from a different angle, and to make sure I saw the ambulance arrive before I headed on my way.
At this point, my driving senses were, not surprisingly, hightened. Every subtle movement of people and vehicles around me caused my head to snap toward them. My hands shook for nearly an hour. Lunch—fruit and a sandwich—didn’t settle quite right, and I could hear it churning as I headed back to work. Back to normalcy.
Posted by paullheureux at May 12, 2003 02:44 PM